Problem Child
by Taisi
Summary: Life is hard in Flushing, Queens and making ends meet neatly is next to impossible with rent to pay, four mouths to feed and only two working bodies in the house. (2K12, Human!AU, Mikey-centric. Warnings include: teenage shenanigans and overprotective brothers.)
1. Problem Child - Part 1

By the time they pulled up to Mikey's apartment building, the rain was coming down in buckets. When the van stopped by the curb, he leaned up between the driver and passenger side seats to beam at the coach.

"Thanks for the ride home! Sorry you had to go out of the way, I didn't realize me and Woody were the only two who lived way out here!"

A mudcaked Woody grinned from the backseat, and their coach smiled. "It's no problem. I'm just sorry you boys got soaked- the forecast said no rain, so I didn't call practice but I think the clouds should have tipped me off, huh?"

Mikey giggled, and popped open the side door. "Well, at least we get to go home early, right? See you cats tomorrow!"

"See you tomorrow, Mike!" Woody called back.

"Hurry inside, kiddo."

Mikey hopped out and rolled the door shut behind him, then turned and rushed up the wet stone steps. It felt weird in cleats, and he almost slipped twice once he was in the lobby, but he made it to the elevator in one piece.

"Awww." Crestfallen, his shoulders sank a little at the handwritten sign taped over the button panel. "Out of order? But my legs are _tiiired." _

Trudging to the stairs he pulled open the heavy door with both hands and slipped inside before it could slam shut again, and started up the five flights.

"Well at least this way I can surprise the guys!" he told himself brightly, leaving a dirty trail on the steps as he climbed. "The elevator is _so _loud when it stops on our floor, they totally would have heard me. Oooh, maybe I can help with dinner!"

He trotted a little faster up the last set of stairs, and through the open doorway onto the fifth floor. He pulled his duffel around to dig around for his key when he made it to the door with a missing 505, and after a brief battle with the ancient lock, he was in.

Their apartment was sorta small; a kitchenette shared room with the dining room table and chairs, and the living room was only big enough for a lumpy couch and some beanbag chairs crammed in front of the huge entertainment center they scored for fifteen bucks at Goodwill. The T.V. was kinda old, and the only gaming platform they had was an old PS2 Leonardo brought home from a rummage sale.

But they had a DVD/VCR player and pretty much all the best movies in the world, and the landlord ran cable through each unit so they got like twenty channels and sometimes Cartoon Network came through which was _awesome._

"Weeell, if nobody's out here they're probably having a_ family meeting_. Boooring."

Mikey dumped his bookbag on one of their mismatched chairs by the dining room; he didn't have any homework, but he had a math test from last week he wanted Donnie to take a look at. He kept his duffel bag over his shoulder as he wandered down the hall, cause it was sorta dripping and he'd ask Leo if they should take it down to the basement laundry room tonight or dump it all in the tub and wait till tomorrow.

There were two bedrooms, and Mikey shared with Raph. They had moved in a couple years ago, back when Raph and Leonardo still fought like every day and night, so instead of doing oldest and youngest, Donatello offered to share a room with Leo if Mikey didn't mind bunking with Raphael. And, duh, he totally didn't!

By the time things between the two oldest of their little family mellowed out, everybody was comfortable where they were at. And since Leo was the oldest and Donnie was super smart, meetings usually happened in their room.

Sure enough, there was a sliver of light spilling through the cracked door onto the carpet in the hall. Grinning ear to ear, Mikey crept a little closer, and reached out.

"Money was tight again last month, but we made it," Raphael was saying, and Mikey froze with his hand on the wood panel. "Somehow."

"I have an interview next week for a job in tech support," Donnie said. Mikey could imagine him leaning forward in his desk chair earnestly. "The counselor at school showed me the application, it's sort of like a paid internship for students interested in IT. I think it's only like ten hours a week, but its eleven dollars an hour, and I could work from home. That would help, right Leo?"

"You know it would, Donnie." Their big brother's voice was warm. "But you don't have to do this if you don't want to. You can always change your mind if you don't like it and just focus on your grades."

Leo got his GED two months after he turned sixteen. As much as he liked school, their family was always Leo's number one priority. He was eighteen now, and after two years of online courses and student loans, he had an associate's degree and a position lined up as a PTA over at QHC, which was a _really _cool hospital, and only like twenty minutes from home. Leo was quietly passionate about physical therapy, and it was obvious to his brothers he was happy to be saying goodbye to his minimum wage job and starting an actual career.

Raph was a year younger than Leo, and he wanted to get his GED, too; but Leo talked him into graduating instead.

_"It was really hard," _Leo had told him gently, a hand on his shoulder. _"And a diploma will take you farther than a GED took me. Just work part time, work the weekends. We'll make it."_

"Of course I know that, but I wanna help," Donnie replied firmly. "I'm finally sixteen, so earning a paycheck is a valid option now. It won't be much, but it's something."

"Alright, so the budget this month is pretty much the same," Raph said, and Mikey heard papers rustling. He shifted where he stood outside the door; he didn't want to miss anything, but he'd hate to interrupt. He never really got to listen to budget talks. "We really gotta watch all the extras. And it's getting colder, so electricity will probably start going up soon, right?"

Leo hummed, an acknowledgement, and there was a faint scratching of pencil for a minute.

"Mikey's coach sent him home with this letter last week. It was sealed, so Mikey didn't peek. Their team is going to sectionals, so this went out to all the parents."

"_Jesus, _for real? What the hell does he need $150 for?"

Mikey felt his stomach drop; he sucked in a breath and held it.

"The soccer team isn't funded like the football team is. You know that, Raph, you played freshman year; once we paid your registration fees, the school provided you with everything else- travel, lodging, the whole shebang. But Mikey's coach has a lot less to work with, he really depends on parents stepping in when they can."

"That makes sense," Donatello said wearily. "How are we gonna fit that in, though?"

"We gotta think of something," Raphael said at once. "He loves that team. He was _floating _when he told us they won. It's bad enough we can never go to his games, we can't tell him he has to quit now."

"But we can't afford it, Raph," Donnie told him. "As much as he likes it, we just don't have the money. If all four of us could work, maybe, but as it is- both of your paychecks combined are barely enough to cover rent half the time, and I don't think we'll get another handout from the city's energy assistance program. The school soccer team is practically free, just thirty bucks for cleats and a jersey, so there was never a problem- we didn't budget for over a hundred dollars!"

"And I don't start work at QHC for another month," Leonardo muttered. "Once I have that pay coming in, a _lot_ can change; we can get some new stuff- better furniture, a decent T.V. Maybe even start looking at better apartments, bigger ones. And Mikey can play all the sports he wants. But until then- I don't know what we can do. We're stretched about as thin as we can go without breaking."

Mikey blinked a few times, thrown for a loop. Things couldn't have been that desperate; they always had food, and old movies to watch, and loads of cool stuff from the Salvation Army. Mikey _liked _their stuff. What was Leo talking about?

_Our money problems are really that bad? _

"It's not like Mikey can earn the money for soccer himself- he's only fourteen, he can't work."

Something like panic or guilt or both was rising up Mikey's throat. It felt like he was going to be sick. _I can't help it. I didn't know that's what the letter said, or I'd have thrown it away. I didn't mean to, I didn't know. _

"No he can't, and that's just how it is. Come on, let's try to figure this out. He's our problem after all."

His hands went lax, duffel bag slipping out of his grip and hitting the floor with a muffled thump.

_Problem?_

"Wait, what was that?"

"In the hall- "

"No way. Mikey?"

But by the time Leonardo stepped into the hallway- took in the wet sports bag abandoned outside the door and the wet trail on the carpet- the front door was swinging shut and Michelangelo was gone.


	2. Problem Child - Part 2

The park a few blocks away had a pretty cool jungle-gym, and even a pavilion with timed lights that came on after dark. Mikey's orange windbreaker was already soaked through, so he figured there was no real harm in wandering past the dry picnic tables and picking a swing to sit on instead.

It was silly to run off like he did. When he'd finally slowed down enough to catch his breath, his legs gone all wobbly from soccer practice and the stairs and then the break-neck run away from home, he had no clue what he was doing. Raph, Donnie and Leo were all he had in the entire world, he wasn't running anywhere if he was running away from them.

But they didn't need Mikey like Mikey needed them. He was their problem. Leo said so.

The four of them argued and fought all the time, and Raph sometimes said mean stuff to him but that was always _to _him, not _about _him. Not something Mikey listened to through a closed door when they didn't know he was home. That made it _real._

"I didn't know," he said to the air and the rain and old rusty swingset. "I didn't know that's what I was. I didn't know things were so bad. Why didn't they just tell me?"

The street closest to his side of the park was still pretty busy, and the rushing cars and headlights were something to watch for a few minutes while Mikey's swing drifted scant inches back and forth. There was a scary stinging edge of hurt somewhere close to his heart, that he couldn't touch or it would rip open into something ugly.

So he didn't touch it; didn't think about it. Just watched the cars and headlights, and let his breathing get shallow, rapid, let his head cant to one side like it was full of air and Mikey was getting dizzy trying to hold it up.

_Why didn't they just tell me?_

When he heard his name called from somewhere far away, it sounded like he was listening from underwater. It took him ages to turn his head for a glance over his shoulder, and he'd know those green eyes anywhere, they were the only ones Mikey had ever seen that could pierce through the dark and rain like fireflies.

But somewhat dimly, Mikey recoiled from him for probably the first time in fourteen years. Lurching off his swing, he made it a whole two steps away before strong hands were spinning him bodily around, clutching his shoulders so hard it should have hurt.

"Mikey! Mikey, what is _wrong _with you? Would you- you're _freezing, _what were you _thinking? _What are you doing out here?"

"Swinging," Mikey answered truthfully, tugging at the hands locked around his arms. "Let go."

"What? No." He was dragged even closer instead, and Raph looked like he didn't know whether to be relieved or furious. "Donnie and Leo are on their way in the car. Why did you take off to go swinging? At night? In the _rain?"_

Too many questions were making Mikey's head swim, and for some reason Raphael's words were all running and blurring together like watercolors. It was sort of annoying, especially since Mikey wanted answers, too; so he yanked away with a snap that hurt his shoulders and shouted, "Why didn't you _tell me?"_

Surprise and anger filled Raph's eyes in unequal parts and his hands hovered where they'd been holding Mikey seconds before. "Are you delusional? Tell you _what?" _A sort of understanding cleared the cloudy confusion in his face, and he narrowed his stare at him. "Is this about your soccer team? You overheard us talking about the letter. Damn, Mikey, I knew it'd be disappointing, but this is a little much even for you."

_"Soccer?" _Mikey interrupted slowly, in the time it took his brain to translate through what felt like mud or ice in his head. When it did, he stared at Raph in stunned disbelief. "You... think it's about soccer? You think I'd run away from you because of a game?"

Something was making Raph's face go all scrunched and pale in worry the longer Mikey talked, like it did the time Leo broke his arm. "Mikey, you're white as a sheet. How am I just now seeing this." His hands shot out to grab Mikey's, and Mikey tugged away in belated irritation, but Raph was muttering quickly to himself now, voice pitching louder and lower, searching Mikey's face like reading a textbook. "Your hands are all clammy. Your skin is freezing, your eyes won't focus. Signs of- signs of- what is it, shock?"

Donnie had all but forced a do-it-yourself first aid course down their throats once. It came in handy now and then, and it was always sorta endearing to see Raph reaching earnestly out of his comfort zone, but weirdly enough Mikey wasn't in the mood for handy or endearing.

"Go _away, _Raph," he said sternly. "'m not your problem anymore." This time when he shoved his older brother away, Raph actually fell back a few steps.

"Mikey?"

He was breathing so hard and fast now it hurt, it was practically coming and going in pants, and Mikey pressed the heel of one hand against his sternum as he started away.

"Not your problem."

"What are you talking about?" Swift footsteps behind him propelled Mikey into a run for the one millionth time that night, a reflex his body fell to like a machine. "Mikey- hey, stop! _Mikey!"_

_Faster than you, _Mikey thought with some backwards glee, before the texture underfoot changed abruptly from soft and giving to hard and slick, and a horn blared at the same time the entire world lit up from one side in a blinding white.

He was ripped back out of the street by a fist in his jacket, landing heavily on his butt in the grass, and the arms that locked around him would have felt like iron if iron shook so much. Mikey blinked slowly against a solid chest, while the world decided to just spin and spin, and finally Raph whispered, "What is _wrong _with you?"

"Dunno," Mikey answered honestly. "You won't tell me." After the moment it took to get his scrambled thoughts back into a mental omelet, he added, "I'm not your problem."

"You idiot," Raph told him with feeling, a rush of affection Mikey wasn't expecting and wasn't prepared for. His brother pushed their faces together with a hand cupped around the back of Mikey's head and just held him there, like he'd hold him forever. "Of course you are."

But somehow when Raph said it, it didn't sound like such a bad thing.


	3. Problem Child - Part 3

Mikey only vaguely remembering being picked up and carried. It seemed like one minute he was sitting in a puddle, and the next he was laying in the backseat of their old Sedan with his head pillowed on a corduroy-clad thigh.

"Donnie?" he asked, but his voice came out like sandpaper, and the hand he hadn't noticed carding through his hair went still.

"Yeah, it's me," Donatello said, and Mikey sighed, sinking more heavily against his brother and the seat. Thank goodness. Donnie would explain things- he _loved _explaining things. "You feeling okay?"

"Mmmn. Hey Donnie, why didn't you guys tell me?"

"He keeps _saying _that," a voice in the front snapped, and another hushed it. Mikey felt the hand on his hair move down to his chest, still rising and falling too fast like he'd just played FW for three straight hours without a break in the game. Pressing his hand over Mikey's jumping heartbeat, Donnie took a deep breath and let it out slowly, did it over and over until Mikey tried mimicking the slow, soothing swell and collapse of his brother's chest. After awhile, Donatello finally answered him.

"Tell you what, Mikey?"

"Anythin'." The combination of gentle hands and warmth and his name said so carefully had Mikey blinking through blurring tears. "I thought everything was okay."

His breaths were starting to come slow and deep all on their own, and as Donnie pushed the damp fringe out of his face, Mikey's eyelids drooped.

"I thought everything- "

"It will be," Donnie said firmly, the way he did when it was math or computers, when it was something he knew better than himself. "It will be, I promise."

Promises from Donnie were practically bulletproof, he was way too smart to get stuff wrong. It made Mikey feel better about closing his eyes.

"Donnie, how is he?"

"Exhausted. And probably developing a fever as we speak. But his breathing's normal and he finally stopped shaking."

"We're almost home. Just keep an eye on him."

"Like you even have to tell me. He's the only little brother I..."

* * *

When Mikey woke up, it was to stiffness and pain. It took him a full couple minutes to catalogue the aches in his body and decide he probably wouldn't die from how much his legs and head hurt.

"Feels like I got stomped on all over by a bunch of guys in Tiempo Legend Vs," he muttered, rubbing his face. "Nike doesn't mess around."

Speaking of cleats, Mikey wasn't wearing his. He wriggled his free toes from somewhere under piles of blankets, and realized he was a lot farther from the ceiling than he usually was in his top bunk.

Not quite brave enough to sit up yet, Mikey tipped his head carefully to one side and took in the room. The walls were lacking his and Raph's movie posters and comic pages, pinned up by thumbtacks and dollar store ninja stars. Instead there were a few framed certificates, a boat-load of photos, and a pretty wall-scroll.

_Leo and Donnie's room?_

Donnie was across the room in his bed, slumped sideways like he'd fallen asleep sitting up again, and Raph was dozing at the foot of Leo's, leaned against the wall with his arms folded and legs draped heavily over Mikey's.

It was the exact same thing he always did when Mikey had a nightmare, cause for some reason it just made Mikey feel whole worlds better. And just then it sorta made him wanna cry.

The desk chair squeaked a bit, and he glanced over in time to see Leo move closer to the bed, abandoning some papers and a pen as soon as he realized Mikey was awake. Leo's face looked pale and tired, but his eyes were the same sort of crisp blue as the sky on a sunny winter morning.

"Morning, buddy," he said, with one of those sideways smiles that could mean one or a hundred things depending on the day. "How do you feel? You look miserable."

He leaned into the hand that came down to feel his forehead, and murmured, "'m sorry for running away." How he _felt _could wait, because he was sorry and Leo needed to know right away. He should have stayed and _asked_, should have pushed open the door and asked what they meant before assuming the worst of the three best people in the world. Nobody could look at somebody the way Leo was looking at Mikey if they were just a problem.

"Don't ever do that to me again." Leo pushed the hair off his forehead fondly. "Donnie thinks you had a panic attack. You almost gave _me _one."

"Sorry," Mikey said again, crushed and plaintive, "sorry, Leo."

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You're home now. I do want to know what happened, but it can wait until you- "

"Heard you call me a problem." Leo froze, and Mikey went on cautiously, "I got home early, and- you were talking about my letter, and about all this other stuff I didn't know about, and this whole time I thought we were okay."

Leo got up and leaned over, the bed dipping with his weight as he sat down and pulled Mikey's head against his shoulder, arms folding securely around him like the best kind of armor in the world.

"So that's it," he muttered, sounding half-drowned in a weary, slow-burning chagrin that Mikey _knew_ he was pointing at himself like a knife. But his voice was closer to normal when he continued, "That must have sounded awful. But you got the wrong impression, Mikey. You know we love you."

Mikey nodded against his shoulder. "I know. And you know I love you too, right?"

"Of course we do," was what Leo said, but he sounded relieved as he said it. _Silly Leo. _"You're our baby brother, we don't keep stuff from you to hurt you. We just don't want you to worry." He gave Mikey a little nudge. "But I guess we went a little too far in the opposite direction, huh?"

"Maybe," Mikey quipped, just to hear Leo chuckle. Then he leaned back to look at him, trying to look as serious as he could. "With all that stuff, the money problems. I could help out, too! I could get like a paper route or something." When Leonardo didn't say anything right away, Mikey couldn't help the frown that tugged his mouth down. "I _could. _I wanna help, Leo."

"Mikey, you _do. _You do practically all the chores, you make breakfast- and dinner, too, on nights you don't have practice. There would be a mutiny within a week if Raph had to go without your scrambled egg tacos."

"True," muttered a not-as-asleep-as-Mikey-thought-he-was Raphael, not even bothering to open his eyes. Leo didn't look surprised, so Mikey was alone in gaping, then rolling his eyes super hard at the ceiling. _I should've figured Raph was faking. It's _Raph.

"The point is, I dunno what we'd do without you around here," Leo said, sounding- to Mikey's surprise- like he really meant it. Which didn't make sense, since none of that stuff Leo mentioned was especially helpful, it was just stuff Mikey did anyway. He blinked a few times, thrown for a loop. Didn't understand why Raph opened his eyes to take a sharp look at Mikey's face, and then shoved a hand through his hair and _sighed _like he was angry or tired or sad.

"But... I could help _more."_

"We'll talk about it," Leo conceded. "Promise. But for right now, you need to get some rest, okay? And Mikey," he tapped two fingers under Mikey's chin gently to hold his attention, blue eyes as serious as his youngest brother had ever seen them, "you _are _my problem, till the day I die. And I wouldn't have it any other way. Got it?"

Mikey nodded, and smiled when Raph patted his knee with a taciturn fondness Mikey wouldn't know how to live without. "Got it."

"Good. Now go to sleep." He was pushed back down carefully, and watched as Leo moved his chair back to the desk. Behind him Donnie sat up blearily, rubbing his eyes with the heel of one hand, and got up to clumsily cross the room to Leo's bed.

He climbed in next to him and Mikey shuffled over to make room, meeting sleepy brown eyes curiously as Donnie draped an arm over him.

"Everything okay?"

He could feel the weight of two of his brothers on him, and the watchful eyes of the third. Leo promised they'd talk about it, and Raph wasn't mad. Beaming, Mikey whispered, "Yeah."

"Told you so."


	4. The Bradford Dilemma - Part 1

_A/N: This was originally a threeshot but I've decided to expand on it, since you've all seemed to enjoy the AU so far and I've enjoyed writing it. C:_

* * *

Mikey was scanning the cafeteria for one of his brothers when he collided bodily with someone headed in the opposite direction. He didn't even have a chance to catch his bag before the larger student was punching him in the shoulder, hard enough he winced, and biting a sharp, "Watch it, freshman!"

"Oh man, movie cliché alert," Mikey said with round eyes, rubbing his newly sore arm; Raph always said he never knew when to shut up. Sure enough, the older boy scowled darkly. Mikey raised an eyebrow at him in return. He knew how to take down guys bigger than him, easy. It would take two moves max, but he was at school, _seriously _not the time.

Before he could try to deescalate the situation, a certain sixth sense tugged at the back of his mind. He turned, feeling cool tendrils of dread.

_Ohhh, no. _

Raphael's eyes were sharp like cut steel, and he stood up in that slow way that made him tower a hundred feet tall. Mikey pressed his lips together anxiously, and shuffled his feet a bit. Of _course _he'd find his brothers _now. _

Mikey wasn't scared of Raphie, no way. But it was real bad news when he looked like that. And he'd already gotten a suspension before, about a year ago, for trashing some people who'd broken Donnie's then half-built computer. It was a big enough deal that Donnie had actually cried in frustration, and after that Raph told his brothers he just saw _red_.

_Should I try to save the jerk? _Mikey wondered in the two seconds he had to spare, and scooted a half-step between the bully and the oncoming storm as Raph stalked towards them.

"Mikey," Raph said without sparing him a glance, and there was no arguing with _that _tone. Mikey fell away again on autopilot, twisting his fingers. He blinked when he felt an arm fall across his shoulders, and glanced up and to the side to find Donatello frowning darkly over his head.

"Donnie, we gotta stop 'im," Mikey whispered, but Donnie told him to hush and just kept him tucked against his side.

"Hey, I'm sorry," Raphael was saying pleasantly. "Bradford, right? It's just- I _thought _I saw you pop my baby brother. Is that what I saw?"

"Back off, Hamato," the guy said, face a little paler now, "I'm not looking for trouble- "

"Are you _sure?" _Raph moved closer, poison green eyes slitted and furious. "Cause you found it _real _easy."

"Raph, come on," Mikey said, reaching past Donnie for him. Raph still didn't look over, but Mikey could feel the change in his attention, the shifting of all his fields of awareness to account for his little brother's hand on his arm. "It's not worth it, right? It's doesn't matter_, _so let's just- "

For whatever reason, Donatello's arm tightened around his shoulders, and Raph's eyes flicked over to meet Mikey's, burning like real fire.

"What?"

Most of the cafeteria was watching the altercation with interest; and Michelangelo wasn't embarrassed by his brothers at _all, _he loved when they hugged and patted and coddled him, at home _and _at school, didn't matter! But he knew better than he thought his brothers thought he did that he embarrassed _them _sometimes. Little brothers just did that, Mikey was learning, and that's how it was. He figured he should try to spare them when he could, like right now.

"Everyone's looking," he tried, blinking at the intensity of both his brothers' eyes on him at once. "All your friends are- "

"Teacher's coming," Donatello said shortly, and Raph's hand shot out like a bullet, grabbing the guy by the front of his varsity jacket.

"Touch him, talk to him, _look at him _again," he said quietly, "and you'll wake up breathing through a tube. I promise."

And with that, he shoved Bradford away so hard it caused him to stumble and cough harshly. Mikey didn't like him, he was a jerk, but he hovered to make sure the jerk was okay. Or he would have, if his brothers hadn't herded him away.

"Guys," Mikey started, but Donnie shook his head in a really familiar _'just be quiet, Mikey' _kinda way.

So he huffed, and met a few curious glances as they passed through the cafeteria. No one tried to speak up even to say "see ya later," and Mikey really hoped his brothers hadn't scared any of their friends away cause of him.

"But it's raining," Mikey whined half-heartedly when they headed out the back doors, already seeking out a puddle to jump in; but Donnie's arm was like an iron bar around his shoulders as they made their way to the pavilion and he didn't get to make a splash. _Lame._

And neither of them were talking as Raph dumped his bookbag on a picnic table at random. A little uneasily, Mikey asked, "Ammm I in trouble?"

"Yeah," Raph said shortly. "Definitely."

Crestfallen, Mikey looked up at Donnie for confirmation, and got a rueful smile. "No puppy-dog eyes, Mikey. This is important."

"Would you just explain one thing to me?" Raph said suddenly, rounding on him, and the steel from his eyes was in his voice now. He never talked to Mikey like that _ever_, and Mikey felt himself hunker a little. "Just- explain to me how it _isn't worth it."_

"Huh?"

"When some asshole is shoving you around- how does that _not matter?"_

"Cause it doesn't," he said slowly. "It was just a bully."

"He was gonna hurt you," Donnie reminded him helpfully. "That doesn't matter?"

"I could kick his butt myself, dudes, _obviously_. But he's not a _bad guy, _he's just a bad guy." Mikey blinked. "Wait, I mean- he's not like a crook or whatever, he's just a jerk. He can't _really _hurt me, you know? But if I fought back, I'd _really _hurt him." He could feel the tension in Donnie's arm around him ebb away, and beamed up at Raph in hopes he'd understand too. "He can push me around all he wants if it makes him feel better. I don't mind."

Raph didn't hesitate to move then, cupping Mikey's face in one rough hand. He even bent forward a little, so they were eye to eye, and brushed a thumb over Mikey's cheekbone. As Mikey blinked at him, something in his big brother's hard face softened just barely.

"But I do. You're my problem, kid."

Mikey leaned into Raph's hand, covering it with one of his own. So they were still on pins and needles about the misunderstanding of a week or so ago; realizing that had everything making sense.

And letting his big brothers take care of him was the best way Mikey could take care of them back. So he smiled warmly, and nodded once; rewarded, when Raphael didn't pull his hand away.

"And we're still telling Leo," Donnie added, cueing a prompt nod from Raph, and they both grinned when Mikey groaned.

* * *

At the end of the day, Mikey got to ride home with Raph cause Donnie was staying late to work in the science lab. He caught the orange helmet Raphael tossed at him with a grin, and waved at a few giggling girls from his homeroom when they called out his name and a friendly goodbye.

"Alright, heartbreaker, hop on," Raphael said gruffly, with that warm, fond something in his voice that made the whole entire world a better place as far as Mikey was concerned. He clambered up behind his brother on the old red motorcycle and wrapped his arms around Raph's waist as hard as he could; laughing when Raph snapped, "Not that tight, you dork."

And as Raph kicked back the stand and started the engine with a roar, Mikey felt eyes on his back. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that guy- Bradford- standing on the sidewalk watching him.

He smiled ruefully when Mikey met his eyes, and his lips moved silently in a "Sorry," that sort of blew Mikey's mind. He stared at the older classman and all his apparent contrition in actual open-mouthed surprise, jumping a little when the motorcycle started moving. Clutching Raph's shirt, Mikey twisted to watch Bradford until he was out of view.

"Everything okay back there?"

"Uhh." He turned forward again, head resting between Raph's shoulder blades, mind spinning at a hundred miles an hour. "Yeah. Yeah, totally."

_I think._


	5. The Bradford Dilemma - Part 2

His algebra teacher kept him after the bell so they could talk about how crappy he was at math, and now Mikey had like five minutes to get to his next class. Weaving through the crowd in B wing, he slid the last few feet to his locker and yanked it open.

"What the- ohh, _jeez_."

Flowers. _Lots _of flowers.

Mikey stared at them in dismay. His locker was rigged at the handle to stay unlocked, courtesy of Donnie, so it would have been easy for someone to cram a bunch flowers inside but- _why? _ If it was a joke, whoever was behind it had to have shelled out a lot of money for a bouquet that massive. Mikey would have stopped to give this prankster major kudos but he was in a hurry, and sort of still bummed about math, and his psychology textbook was definitely somewhere behind all that plastic and crepe paper.

Dropping his bag at his feet, Mikey started the undertaking of extracting the bouqet without scattering petals and confetti all over the place, starting to wonder- as he got a closer look at how pretty and fancy it was- if someone had crammed it in his locker by mistake.

_Wait a minute, duh! _

"Maybe they're for Raph or Don!" he exclaimed, looking at the flowers in a new light. The lockers were assigned at the beginning of the year by alphabetical order all the way down the student roster, so Mikey's was right smack inbetween his brothers'. It could have totally been an honest mistake.

He leaned into the locker to get his arm behind the flowers, feeling around near the stems for a card; grinning when his fingers met stock paper. "Gotcha."

He heard his name called from down the hall, and glanced up. Donnie was on his way over with some books under his arm, and Mikey waved back cheerfully. His mood was like twenty times better now that he had the inside scoop on a _crush. _Flipping the card over eagerly, he scanned the short handwritten note for a signature.

And felt his stomach drop all the way down to his feet.

_Yours, Chris Bradford. _

"-glad I got Mrs. Arnolds to sign a pass for me, because there's no way I was gonna make it to study hall by the time... Mikey?"

Mikey jumped, and slammed his locker shut before Donnie had the chance to see around the door. The sound was almost unbelievably loud in the near-empty hallway, and Donatello stared at him.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, definitely. I'm awesome."

But his fingers were clenched too tight around the card, probably bending it all out of shape, mind racing. When the bell rang Mikey started so badly he banged his elbow against the locker, then had to curl around his arm miserably.

"...Are you _sure?" _

Donnie's brown eyes were way too sharp in the way they studied Mikey's face, his mouth tugged into a severe frown. He was way too smart for his own good- _proving _it when his gaze dropped to Mikey's fist.

Mikey shoved the card into his hoodie pocket and scooped his bag off the floor.

"_Way _sure. So hey, I'm late for psych, I gotta- "

His brother caught him by the shoulder before he could caper off, walking around to stand in front of him.

"_Donnieee, _I'm late! I have to go to class. And learn and stuff."

"Who do you think you're telling?" Donatello smiled ruefully and opened his arms. "I could use a hug before you do, though. I'm kinda overdue for one."

At that, everything else on Mikey's mind fell to the wayside because holy cow, Donnie was _asking _for a hug. And actually, yeah- he totally _was _overdue! So Mikey grinned, and had to jump a little to throw his arms around Donnie's neck, but his brother caught him easy and hugged him back just as hard.

Hugs were _awesome_. Mikey felt ten pounds lighter already.

When he trotted off to A wing, it was with a smile on his face and those flowers at the back of his mind. Or he probably would have noticed the card missing from his pocket a lot sooner.

* * *

Sitting in psychology, there were two big, huge, major things on Mikey's mind.

The first thing was that his stupid genius brother was a stupid dirty pickpocket. 'Overdue for a hug,' just _wow_. And Mikey fell for that!

And the second thing- what the heck was Bradford doing buying him a bouquet? Did he have connections at a boutique or something? Maybe a friend could have got him those flowers cheap or whatever and they thought it'd be funny to mess with Mikey's head that way.

But... leaving flowers for someone wasn't exactly bullying, was it?

Mikey had never stared at the whiteboard harder in his entire life, a thoughtful frown on his face. Drumming his fingers on the teacher's edition textbook he was borrowing for the period from Mr. Scorseby, since _his _textbook was still in his locker buried under like forty bucks of flowers.

_This is the weirdest day of my _life_._

He didn't learn anything about lobotomy, not even close, and when the bell rang he shoved everything into his bag, abandoned Mr. Scorseby's book at his desk, and hurried for the door.

_First _he had to yell at Donnie, because taking advantage of brother-hugs was just uncool, and then maybe when he was done yelling Mikey would ask what him what _he_ thought of the card. Cause Dr. Prankenstein himself was drawing a blank.

Mikey skidded into B wing and charged toward their lockers; he was gonna wait for his brother and pick his brain a little bit, in a completely different way than doctors of the early 20th century- wow, maybe he did learn something.

But about two seconds later Mikey remembered one very crucial piece of information:

_Donnie and Raph have study hall together. _

And there was Raphael, leaned against the locker wall with his arms folded; Donnie was next to him, studying something in the palm of his hand- probably Mikey's card- with a frustrated crease in his brow.

Of _course _Don showed Raph. And if they were both there, when neither of them even had a class in B wing, then they were there to gang up on Mikey. Again.

Before he could decide if he should walk into the snake pit and get lectured for something he didn't even do, or bail on the rest of this stupid day and just lay on a couch in the library for the last two hours, someone tapped him on the shoulder.

At this point, he wasn't surprised to see Chris Bradford when he turned around; the catalyst himself for all the current weirdness in Mikey's life, in that archetypical varsity jacket every tall handsome guy seemed to have four of, with dark blue eyes and a nervous smile.

"Hey," the senior said, looking as out of his depth as Mikey felt, "can we talk?"

Well, that would be the easiest way to get to the bottom of all this, wouldn't it? The youngest Hamato stared up at him, then glanced over his shoulder at his brothers. They hadn't seen him yet.

_What's the worst that could happen? _

"Sure," Mikey said.


	6. The Bradford Dilemma - Part 3

"Do you wanna maybe hang out later?"

Mikey tilted his head to one side, eyes narrowing a tiny bit in concentration- maybe he hadn't heard that right.

"Hang out?"

But no, sure enough- Bradford rubbed an embarrassed hand through his hair and laughed sort of nervously. "Shit. I mean- man, you know. Hang out. See a movie or something. There's a cool skate park downtown. And you skate, don't you?"

Considering that Mikey had gone into this with the intention of getting answers and all he had to show for it was about twenty-two new questions (hang out? see a movie? how does he know I _skate_?) he entertained the idea that talking to Bradford _possibly _wasn't the best move after all.

"I don't think that's a good plan," he said, offering a what-can-you-do smile and shrug combo. "Since, you know, my brothers don't- "

"Screw your brothers," the older boy said, a little too sharply despite the playful expression on his face, and Mikey frowned darkly at him. "Oh- no, I didn't mean- that's not what I meant."

"Sure it isn't. The answer's no, dude."

A quick peek past the running back proved Raph and Donnie were right where Mikey left them last time he checked; but once they realized passing period was almost over they'd start looking for him. Bradford's time was up. _Hey, at least I gave the guy a chance._

He'd only made it about 2.5 steps away before he felt a hand on his arm. Mikey turned around in honest bewilderment- there were plenty of teachers milling the hall was he really going to do this _here?_ But Bradford was grinning crookedly at him, and let him go.

"Well, I hope you change your mind and meet me by the auditorium after school. Or I'll have to come over to your place and pick you up."

"_What?" _Mikey stared at him, stunned._ "_Do you even know where I live? And do you have like a legitimate death wish or something? If you come to my house, Raphael will _murder you." _

"And do you really want that on your conscience?"

"Don't make it my fault!" But Bradford looked smug and certain, and like he absolutely wouldn't budge on his trainwreck of an idea, and behind him farther down the hall Raph and Donnie were starting to scan the crowd and Mikey had about five seconds before his day became a hundred times more terrible. _Oh, _man. "Okay fine auditorium after school now _make like a ninja!"_

And then he hid in the library for the rest of the day after all, like a ninja; sitting at the librarian's desk and half-heartedly punching holes in stacks of papers and avoiding any and all eye contact just in case it would lead to something else weird. Mikey hadn't gotten a single question answered and now everything was _worse._ He had a ton of flowers in his locker, two snoopy brothers on his case, and a weird guy date with the _same _guy Raph would happily push into traffic.

_I've heard high school was tough, but man... I had no idea._

* * *

Somehow Mikey evaded his brothers the whole way across school, but that wouldn't last forever. He hopped from foot to foot outside the double doors, sort of obsessively checking his phone, and leapt a mile in the air when someone touched his shoulder from behind.

"Wow, edgy much?"

Well _that_ wasn't Bradford.

"Casey?" Mikey groaned, pressing a hand to his heart and trying to calm down his nerves at least a little; he seriously should not be this jumpy, it was probably bad for his brain or something. "You scared the heck out of me, dude!"

Casey Jones was Raphael's best friend, and as good as family as far as Mikey was concerned. And by now, even with no real family of his own to practice on, Casey had the big brother routine down pat- and proved it, by raising an eyebrow and asking, "What are you doin' way out here anyway? Raph's completely on the other side of the parking lot."

"Oh. Uhh. _Well. _Funny story. True story! You _see-_" A car honking cut him off, and both boys glanced up as a tired old station wagon pulled up to the curb. Bradford leaned over from the driver's side to peer through the passenger's side window and wave. _Oh, no, _Mikey thought at the exact same time he pasted a bright smile to his face. "Actually, there's my ride! Catcha on the flip-flop, C-Jones!"

But he was having awful luck today, because Casey decided to make himself the third person to grab Mikey before he could get away. And the senior's eyes were narrowed and hostile over Mikey's head, his fingers curling around Mikey's elbow.

"What are you doing with _Chris Bradford?"_

_How many people does Bradford tick off in a day?_

"He wouldn't leave me alone till I said I'd hang out with him today." Mikey blinked up at Casey's angry face. He never got to see it often, since Casey was always grinning or laughing when they played cards or watched movies together- but there was a reason he and Raph got along so well, and it was probably because they could both turn scary at the drop of a hat. "So, whatever. It'll probably be lame."

"Wait- wouldn't leave you alone? Mikey, what the heck is going on?"

_Yikes, everyone's touchy today. _Mikey extracted his arm gently, and patted Casey's shoulder. "I'm fine, dude! Seriously. _Please_ don't worry."

Casey reached out like he'd grab Mikey back a second later, but the youngest Hamato was already climbing into the passenger seat, hissing, _"Drive." _And trying not to feel guilty when Casey called his name from the sidewalk as Bradford drove away.

"Looks like you've got a whole army at your beck and call," he said when they were pulling out of the parking lot. Mikey didn't quite understand the edge to his voice, so he shrugged.

"Not really. I have a lot of friends, I guess, if that's what you mean."

Bradford made a quiet, "Huh," sound, and Mikey rolled his eyes out his window. This was gonna be a _long _car ride.

His phone went off, loud and proud, and he yanked it out of his hoodie pocket. _Only a matter of time, _he thought, checking the caller I.D. and reading Raphie's number. Bradford raised an eyebrow at him when he groaned with gusto.

"Who is it?" he asked casually, and Mikey snorted.

"Who do you think?" He declined the call, sent a quick text- _im fine, be home for dinner, love u- _and then set the ringer to silent and slid his phone back into his back pocket. "Okay, you know what- if you're seriously gonna try to _drive _all the way to wherever we're going, I don't think I can deal." Mikey rolled his window down and stuck most of his upper body out of it to get a good look at the traffic. "It'll take us an hour to make it down the block! Why did you take Main? Do you _ever _drive in the city?"

The older kid looked both annoyed and embarrassed, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. "Not really. But the YMCA is only a few blocks from where we're at now- "

"Cool great, then pull over and we'll walk!" Mikey unsnapped his seatbelt, patting the interior panels of the car impatiently. "Let's go, let's go. Seriously, there's like three hour parking right there. Raph would never park his bike here, but no one's gonna try to steal your car. Sorry, dude."

And that pretty much how they ended up walking through Chinatown. Now that they were actually out and about, Mikey was having like twenty times more fun than Bradford was. He only lasted maybe five minutes before he fished some money out of his bookbag and bought a bag of dumplings because _wow so good. _Bradford was being a huge bore, with his hands in his pockets and his head down, but Mikey refused to be rushed. He _loved _Chinatown.

"Y'should try some o' these," he said through a mouthful of dumpling. Then swallowed and added, "Well, not _these. _But if you wanted to run back and get some of your own, I would totally wait."

"No, I'm good. Are you sure this is the right way?"

"Duh, it's a shortcut." Mikey crumpled his sack and shot it into a trash can as they passed by. "Hah, ten points! Hey but, why are we going to the YMCA? I thought you said skating or movies."

"Oh. Uh, we're gonna meet up with some of my buds there."

"Really? What for?" Bradford looked at him sort of weirdly, but Mikey stopped listening two seconds later. Stopped walking, too, head canting to one side as he focused intently. "Hey, did you hear something?"

"We're in like a huge crowd right now, what _something _do you- "

_That's a cat, _Mikey thought with a cool rush of concern, and took off towards the high-pitched wail when it started up again. Bradford shouted, and maybe hurried to follow him- _he doesn't know where we're at, _Mikey remembered distantly, _so he'll be lost if he loses me._

But none of that mattered, because when Mikey slid to a stop in the mouth of an alley, it was to find three guys and one little orange cat. And as Mikey watched, chest heaving, one of the guys upended a plastic bottle over the cat's back, causing it to _shriek _as whatever was inside the bottle burned through its fur.

Then Mikey was running again, legs pumping with all the trained muscle of a striker, pulling and shoving his way through to the poor little kitty and not hesitating to use his elbows where he had to. He didn't make any friends doing it, and all three of the jerks were cursing or shouting at him, but Mikey finally made it to the cat and scooped it up as carefully as he could. It flinched and cried again, and Mikey petted its head with a gentle finger while his heart broke into a million pieces.

"You guys _suck_," he told the perfect strangers with almost actual _hatred_. "What the heck are you trying to prove, picking on a tiny cat? Does this make you _cool _guys? What is it, like, monster initiation, or an evil scavenger hunt? "Find the cutest, most harmless thing ever and make it suffer as hard as you can!" Is that _fun _for you?"

"Listen to the mouth on this kid," the tallest of the four said with, and when he folded his arms Mikey had the perfect view of a dragon tattoo coiling up the length of his arm to bear spitting fangs at the ball of his shoulder. _Lame. _"Where the hell did you even come from, runt?"

"Mind your own business," he replied smartly, and watched the three men trade incredulous glances. Fight-or-flight _I'm in trouble I'm in trouble _was a conga line in his chest cavity somewhere, but Mikey had a wheezing kitty in his arms to worry about.

Way behind the dragon-guys, Bradford was white-faced and stock-still in the mouth of the alley- and the second Mikey met his eyes, the football player flinched, took a step back, and then turned away and ran.

_Bailed._

Mikey would totally be bringing that up at school tomorrow.

_If, _he thought, as he was grabbed by the scruff of his jacket and thrown up against a broken brick wall, curling his arms around the orange cat protectively and glaring through his bangs at three leering faces, _I make it to school tomorrow._


	7. The Bradford Dilemma - Part 4

For as long as Mikey could remember, Leo was always _really _brave.

When they were younger and they never seemed to stay in the same place for more than a day or two- when they spent a lot of time after school on doorsteps and behind vacant buildings around Chinatown- Leo was the oldest, and Leo was responsible for them, and Leo was _brave._ He was brave when the man who would become their father first approached them on a cold afternoon with warm food and warm coats and a kind offer. And he was brave when their father got sick six years later and passed away.

He put his sorrow on a shelf, got a job, and took care of his family the way he _always _had, because he was the bravest ever.

So when he was scared- really, really scared- Mikey thought of Leo.

"Sorry dude, kitty's off-limits," he told the dragon-man with a shrug, in a voice that didn't shake. The cat in his arms was purring so hard Mikey could feel it through his hoodie, its tiny claws curled into his sleeves like it _knew _where its only hope was_. _"But if you need to whale on somebody, I'm your guy."

Dragon-guy didn't need any more encouragement than that, and pulled back his arm.

Raph used to always come home pretty beat up, and Mikey had spent a million long hours of his childhood with an icepack and his brother's head on a pillow in his lap. Raph never ever said what happened or where he went, but Leo always seemed to know already and Donnie always figured it out, so it was only Mikey who wondered.

_He must have saved so many cats, _Mikey realized, in the seconds following the rock solid connection of fist-to-face, where his eye sort of felt like it was going to explode. Thank goodness he was standing against the wall, or he probably would have fallen over. He wanted to push his hand against the throbbing pain but that would mean un-hugging the scared kitty. _Raph'll understand._

It was just the one guy, the other two hadn't joined in yet, but three punches later and Mikey felt like the biggest loser on the planet because it _hurt _and he was _not _going to cry or anything but he wasn't gonna be the hero he pictured in his head, either. He was only still on his feet thanks to some awesome balance and the wall at his back, and he couldn't really see out of one eye, and his mouth tasted coppery which couldn't be good.

But kitty was purring so loud, and any guys that needed to hurt little animals to feel strong weren't the type of guys Mikey would lose to. So he folded his aching face into a glare when the dragon-guy took a step back.

"You must be _exhausted_. Good thing you're not beating kids and cats up all by yourself! Tap out, dude."

"You don't know when to shut up, do you?" the skinny guy said, looking more frustrated than angry. Mikey shrugged, teetering a little.

"My brother says the same thing."

When the third dragon cracked his knuckles like a 70s movie bad guy, Mikey had to steel himself not to flinch away. He stroked kitty's head, thought of Leo, and wondered if Leo would be proud of him or disappointed.

"I won't tell him he's who I thought of," Mikey whispered to the cat. It meowed back, and he glanced up at the approaching guy with resignation and a headache. "Just in case."

"Hey."

The voice at the mouth of the alley was an unfamiliar one; even the dragons whipped around, and Mikey peered around the closest to get a glimpse of the speaker, curiosity easily taking a front seat in Mikey's brain despite the current situation.

"Woah," he whispered, widening the eye that wasn't in danger of falling out. The guy coming towards their merry little group was _huge. _Like, two feet taller than Mikey, easy, but not that much older. He was dressed in dark leather that did sort of nothing in the way of keeping his muscles a secret- dude was _built. _

"What the hell do want?" skinny dragon snapped- probably not the best move, from the way leather guy narrowed dark green eyes at him.

And then, so fast it would still be blowing Mikey's mind a week from now, leather guy grabbed the bigger dragon by the collar of his shirt and threw him into the wall so hard he just- slid to the ground. Everything went still and silent and the green-eyed stranger said, "I want the kid."

_Uh..._

_Am I saved or screwed?_

* * *

"You totally surprised me, showing up like that," Mikey said cheerfully, about an hour later. He was at Mr. Murakami's eating _delicious _(free) gyoza while the kind blind storeowner washed out kitty's fur with warm water and Leather wrapped ice cubes up in a dishtowel. "But I'd probably definitely be in the hospital by now if you hadn't."

"Sit still," the older kid said, and pressed the ice over Mikey's eye without much more warning than that. Mikey yelped and would have jerked away if Leather hadn't anticipated him; his other hand curled around the back of Mikey's head. "Your face is going to look like a purple balloon tomorrow."

"Promise?" the youngest Hamato quipped, and grinned when Leather's mouth twitched. "But seriously, though, thanks."

"Have you called your brothers, Michelangelo?" Mr. Murakami asked a few minutes later. And he may have been blind, but he must have felt it in the air when Mikey froze. "Perhaps you should let them know what happened before you make your way home, and spare them worry."

"They worry anyway," Mikey muttered, slipping his phone out and unlocking the screen. "Twelve missed calls," he recited with cold dread, "and four voicemails. Ohh, _man."_

He took over holding the icepack to his face as he put the phone to his ear, and gestured with his elbow for Leatherhead to try some of the gyoza. "It's a special recipe he came up with for me and my brothers," he said and scooted over some chopsticks with his elbow next. "Try a bite, and you'll never want to eat anything else ever a- hi, Leo."

_"Mikey, hey." _His brother sounded exhaustively relieved. "_Are you okay?"_

"Yeah, I'm totally fine- I sent Raph a text, I told him I would be home by- "

_"No, I know, you did. But... apparently you've been having problems with someone at school, and Casey told Raph you left with him today. It had everyone on edge."_

"I wasn't having _problems,_" Mikey protested weakly. Leonardo sounded upset over the phone- in that quiet, understated Leo way- and it made Mikey feel guilty six ways to Sunday. "I bumped into him, he got mad, Raph threatened his good health, he apologized, and- uh- " He shuffled his feet nervously. "And left flowers in my locker."

At the same time Leather gave him a sharp, sidelong look- that Mikey couldn't take completely seriously since he had like five pieces of gyoza crammed in his mouth- Leonardo's voice dropped like a hundred degrees into Antarctical levels as he said, _"Raph mentioned the flowers."_

_Woah, dangerzone. _"But- but yeah so anyway, that happened, and then he wanted to hang out."

_"And you- just went with him?"_

"No, I said _no. _Come on, Leo. I only ended up going because Bradford said he'd come over and pick me up if I didn't meet him, and if he _had _then Raph would be in jail right now." He moved the icepack away without thinking and almost instantly a hand was on his wrist, guiding it back again. Mikey made sure to roll his eyes at him, but Leather hadn't even looked up from his plate to do it. "...Are you a Jedi?"

Leather snorted and Leo said, _"What?"_

"No, not you, I was talking to Leatherhead."

_"Leatherhead?"_

"Leatherhead?" Mikey's new green-eyed friend parroted at the same time, and Mikey nodded like it was obvious.

"Yup, and he's Mr. Murakami approved. He's eating pizza gyoza right now, dude, that's how approved he is. And he totally saved the day today! Like, my own personal friendly neighborhood Super-Leather. He came out of nowhere, all like _hyah! _and those loser dragons didn't even- "

_"Dragons?" _Leo's voice cut through his like the sharp edge of a sword he once owned, and Mikey's mouth clicked shut at his big brother's furious tone. _"As in members of the Purple Dragons gang? Mikey, I swear- you have a _lot _of explaining to do. I'm on my way to get you, so don't move."_

"He's gonna kill me," Mikey said the moment he laid his phone down. Mr. Murakami responded by placing a bundle of fluffy towel and kitty in his arms, and Leather by taking the icepack away and replacing it with a fork.

"Better get your last meal in, then."


	8. The Bradford Dilemma - Part 5

"You said you were _totally fine."_

Leo looked livid, standing in the doorway of Mr. Murakami's with his keychain clenched so tightly in his fist that Mikey was distantly afraid for the keys. The youngest Hamato waffled, shrinking under Leonardo's angry eyes.

"I _am _fine, Leo," he said timidly, and if Leo was any less grown-up he probably would have outright growled at him. Somewhat bravely- maybe it was leftover _yay-I'm-not-dead _from the showdown in the alley, who knew- Mikey soldiered on, "No, really! It looks way worse than it is!"

"I don't want to hear it. Go get in the car."

_Oh, _Mikey thought with real dismay, _he's really mad._

Sinking through the floor and disappearing forever wasn't exactly an option, even though Mikey had never wished for it harder in his life. He watched Leo walk over to Mr. Murakami, speaking quietly in Japanese, and shot a quick glance over at Leatherhead and the tuckered out orange cat dozing in the crook of his arm.

Taking a deep breath, Mikey called, "Um- hey, Leo? What about kitty?"

Leonardo's blue eyes were so sharp when he glanced over, Mikey instantly regretted asking at all.

"We can't have cats in our apartment, I've told you that a hundred times."

Mikey flinched.

After _everything _that happened, Leo being mean was the apex of terrible things. Even if Mikey _did _deserve it. Which, actually, he wasn't sure he did! It's not like he_ asked _those creeps to beat up on a cat, and once he saw them at it what was he supposed to do, pretend he didn't? It didn't work like that, and Mikey _had _to help even if he got a little bit hurt.

_Leo would have helped, too,_ Mikey thought glumly, feeling stupidly hurt by the whole thing. _He always says do the right thing, and I did. _

Kitty meowed at him, and he shuffled over to stroke her head. "What am I gonna do now, kitty?" he asked it softly. "I gotta find you someplace to go."

"I'll take her."

Out of his peripheral vision, Mikey saw Leo turn quickly in their direction, but his brother was sort of suddenly the last thing on his mind; because Leatherhead was watching him with kind, calm eyes, and glad warmth expanded in Mikey's chest like a balloon.

"Really?" Mikey felt a grin pull at the corners of his mouth when Leatherhead nodded once. "You mean it?"

"Sure. My landlord loves cats. He wouldn't mind my keeping her until we figured something out." His gaze dropped from Mikey's face to the animal sleeping in the cradle of his hands, and he didn't speak for a moment. Then, looking up, his eyes roamed over Mikey's achey face for moment before he said, "I'd like to help you."

And just like that, the awful day- his bad grades in math, and the stupid flowers, and Chris Bradford, and his furious big brother- didn't seem _that _awful after all. Not when he had an awesome, super cool, cat-loving new friend. Mikey wasted no time in gleefully snatching a pen from behind the counter and scribbling his number out on a napkin.

"Text me _constantly _and lemme know how she's doing! And, I can come by sometimes and see her, right? And help with stuff. Maybe I can volunteer at an animal shelter in exchange for kitty food! D'you think they'd do that? Is there a shelter in Flushing? Doesn't even matter, I'll definitely help however I- "

Leatherhead took the napkin with a really patient expression while Mikey rambled, and then reached over and picked up the drippy makeshift icepack, pressing it to the side of Mikey's mouth until Mikey tapered off and lifted a hand to hold it there himself.

"Your lip split again. You talk too much."

It was probably his way of saying _Okay. _So Mikey beamed, and actually remembered to _say _goodbye to Mr. Murakami on his way out the door instead of wave it.

Then he was alone with Leo, who couldn't even seem to look at him, and his cheer slid away pretty fast. _Oh, yeah. I'm in trouble._

But when he started to open the passenger side door of the Sedan, Leo reached over his shoulder and pressed a hand against the door to keep it shut. Mikey blinked up at him, and when Leo gestured silently, realized exactly what was coming. He turned completely around, lifting his arms and stringing them around Leo's neck when his oldest brother crushed him in a hug.

"I really am okay," he said once a few moments had gone by.

Leo's arms wrapped even tighter, and Mikey hugged him back as hard as he could. Wondering why it suddenly seemed like Leo was a hundred miles away from angry, and a lot closer to _scared._

But he brushed the idea away almost as quickly as it had occurred to him in the first place. Leo _never _got scared.

* * *

"...and then he practically carried me to Mr. Murakami's cause I _suck _at getting beat up, I was all _bluhhh,_ and then we ate gyoza. And that's literally everything that happened."

Mikey was sitting at the kitchen table with Raphael to his immediate right, pressing a huge square bandage to Mikey's cheek. It had robots on it, _awesome. _

"I can't believe you picked a fight with the Purple Dragons." Donnie was white-faced and staring, eyes stuck to Mikey's face and all its current puffy grossness. Usually when he lectured Don got pretty impressively noisy, but his voice was down between whispering and talking normal and didn't get any louder. "How could you _ever _think that was okay?"

"I told you, they had a cat," Mikey replied, sitting back in his chair. He drew one leg up and braced his heel on the edge of the seat, hugging his knee. "They were beating a poor tiny little cat. You would have done the same thing."

Donnie hesitated, still pale and uncertain, and Raphael's face was dark and resigned as he closed the first aid kit. When he shoved it over to Leonardo their oldest brother silently got up to put it away, and Mikey watched him go- sort of wishing they'd all start shouting at him instead of this quiet thing they were doing.

"I'm okay," he attempted, despite the given success rate of those words sitting at a rock solid -30%. Sure enough, none of the pinched worry left Don's expression and Raph just looked at him. "I really am! And- hey, Raphie- now I'm just like you!"

He was hoping Raph would snort or scowl or smack him or _something. _Not just sit there, looking at him like he was something awful and ugly and sad.

"No you're not," he said with absolute certainty, and Mikey reached for him instinctively before the words had a chance to sting, because Raph sounded_ really _hurt and Mikey hadn't meant to hurt him at _all. _But then Don was looking up cause Leo was back and Raph was moving away and Mikey let his hands fall in his lap.

"Hey, Mikey, why don't you lay down on the couch for awhile."

Leo didn't sound half as angry as he did at Mr. Murakami's, but that would have been preferable to how tired and upset he was now.

"Mess-everything-up-Mikey earned himself like a thousand points today," Mikey muttered when his brothers had gone, kicking his shoes off and arranging his scrounged-from-the-alley messenger bag in pillow position on the middle cushion so he could flop his feet over the armrest. "Way to go, me."

He was still trying to pinpoint exactly where he messed up when he must have dozed off; when he blinked awake again, the natural light in the room was darker, and someone was lifting his head carefully and shifting his bookbag away.

"Shh, go back to sleep."

"Raphie?" Mikey sat up and twisted around, or tried to, but Raph's hands were firm on his shoulders and after a second he had no choice but to lay down again. When he did, his shoulders and neck were met with much better support than a smelly sort of damp schoolbag filled with textbooks. The soft pillow that had replaced it was braced by Raph's legs, folded tailor-style, and Mikey tipped his head back to look at Raph upside down.

"What're you doing?"

"Didn't I say go back to sleep?"

But his voice was a lot smoother, a lot less upset than before, and he brushed Mikey's bangs off his forehead carefully.

"You sure know how to get yourself in trouble, little brother. How am I supposed to let you out of my sight now?"

"Sorry, Raph." Mikey twisted the cuff of his sleeve between his fingers for a moment, and added, "And sorry I said- "

"Nah, I know what you meant. Just... Just, uh... You're _not _like me. And that's a good thing, Mikey. I'm not the best there is, y'know?" His hands on Mikey were heavy enough that they almost felt like a hug, and Mikey stared when his big brother leaned over to look at him- cause Raph sort of wasn't making any sense here. "Don't... Don't try to be like me. Okay? There's better- shit, there's- "

_Woah, _what?

"Woah, _what? _Hold the phone, Raph," Mikey said, lifting a finger to jab it straight in his face, scowling even though it hurt. "Let's get one thing straight here- of _course _I wanna be like you, you're _awesome_. This dumb fight was my dumb fault, not yours or anybody's else, _jeez!_ You and Leo and Don are the literal best ever, even when you're being stupid, and if we can't agree on that right now then I'm not gonna talk to you anymore."

He even folded his arms and turned his head away stubbornly, sat that way for like a solid two minutes, waiting for the moment when he heard- _yes! _Raph was laughing!

"You're such a dork, I'm not sure we're related." Mikey grinned widely cause there was warmth behind every word, and tilted his head obligingly when Raph nudged his jaw with his fingers. Something cool and soft was pressed against the pounding ache in his cheekbone- an icepack wrapped up several times over in a dishtowel- and Mikey hummed. "Feels good, huh?"

"Yeaaah. Thanks, bro."

"No problem." He moved the icepack slowly and surely, mapping the colorful patchwork on Mikey's face with tender care, and Mikey was falling asleep again when Raphael added softly, "You've done it for me a hundred times. I kinda owe you this one."


	9. The Bradford Dilemma - Part 6

Mikey woke up slowly, to the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling of his bedroom. The top bunk was a comfortable nest of blankets, pillows, and comic books, but his face was literally just a blob of _ow, _and a bar of morning sunlight across his eyes made it impossible to doze off again.

So he rolled over to search through the dim room for the digital face of the alarm clock, and found "6:24" peering back at him in little red numbers.

"Oh, no way!"

Kicking his way free of several blankets, Mikey scrambled out of bed- remembering at the very last second he was a good ten feet above the floor, and clinging to the rail like a spidermonkey before he could fall. Raph slept through his silent screech of terror, thankfully, and Mikey was free to ninja his way safely down the ladder and out into the hall.

"I can't believe I overslept! Ughh, _Mikey._"

The stovetop went on first as he rushed by, and then he was yanking open the fridge and pulling out the milk, eggs and,_ "Whereisthefreakin- _oh, here it is," butter. It was all dumped in a heap on the counter, closely followed by a mixing bowl.

He tripped on his way back with a skillet, falling with a muffled squeak and a loud _thud. _

"I'm sure the guys slept through that," he assured himself as he climbed back to his feet, setting the skillet on the heating burner. A blob of butter went in the pan and Mikey started cracking eggs.

Ten would be enough, so it was sort of great that they had grabbed a carton of eighteen that last trip to the grocery store. "Leftover eggs means egg sandwiches tomorrow," he sangsong, eyeballing about three cups of milk as he poured it straight from the jug into the bowl with the unbeaten eggs. They didn't have any vanilla, cause Mikey forgot to put it on the list literally always, but there was cinnamon in the spice rack and that would do.

The butter was sizzling and popping, the turtle clock above the sink was at 6:39, and Mikey whisked like the wind. He, Don and Raph didn't have to be at school until eight, but Leo needed to leave for work by seven twenty or he'd miss the right train and be late- and he couldn't skip breakfast! It was the _most important meal of the day!_

"Mikey?"

Startled, Mikey nearly dropped the bowl entirely, and had to scramble with it for a minute to save his grip. _Oh no you don't, _he thought with no small amount of determination, plopping the finished mixture on the counter firmly. _There will be no casualties this morning, breakfast._

Then he turned around and smiled. "Morning, Leo! French toast Friday, _yum_. Ooh, grab the bread for me?"

"What- oh, yeah." Leonardo plucked the loaf off the top of the fridge and handed it over, round almond eyes really blue and really uncertain. "What are you doing?"

"I just said, French toast! I slept in which is totally lame, but yours'll be ready in like five minutes, I promise."

Mikey had the first piece battered and on the skillet when Leo spoke up again. "You're making me breakfast?"

And well, that question made zero sense, since Mikey always made breakfast. The most his brothers could be trusted with was dry cereal and sometimes toast, _sometimes._ So Mikey gave Leo a sideways look as he flipped the bread over to cook on the other side. "Yes?"

Leo rubbed a hand through his hair and blinked at the pan instead of his little brother, looking really... his age. "Even after I yelled at you?"

"Aw, Leo. Of course." Mikey was crestfallen, glancing from the toast, to his brother, then back to the toast. Leaving it was too risky. "When this is done, I'm gonna hug you. It's happening, so don't fight it."

A little embarrassed, Leo made himself busy and pulled the syrup out of the fridge. Twisting the cap off, he moved past Mikey to heat it up in the microwave, and after he started the timer he added, "I shouldn't have talked to you that way, though. When you asked about the cat."

The reminder brought secondhand hurt back to the surface, a little sting where it had really burned before. Mikey shrugged it off, and waggled the spatula at his brother.

"To be fair, you _have _told me "no cats" about a hundred times. And you only get that way when one of us does something _really _dumb, so I guess I had it coming." The first four pieces were finally done, and Mikey stacked them together awesomely on the blue plate and handed it over with a flourish. Powdered sugar would have _made _it, if only they'd had some. "Eat up while it's warm, bro."

A quick glance at the turtle clock made Mikey smile victoriously. Raph and Don would be up in like the next ten minutes, and by then their breakfast would be ready, too.

_Take that, alarm I forgot to set!_

Don slept like the dead until the last minute- usually someone had to wake him up- so Mikey started the next pile on Raph's plate. He paused to drop some more butter in the pan, and battered another piece of bread while it melted.

"So everything's okay?" Leo asked after a long moment. "You feel okay?"

"I _promise,_" Mikey replied emphatically, and watched lines of tension ease out of Leo's neck and shoulders. _Leo's gonna have gray hair in like two days if he doesn't stop worrying so much. _"My face kinda hurts, but my headache's totally gone. If I can sweet-talk Raph into doing the ice-thing for me again tonight, all will be right with the world."

Leo smiled fondly, and about that time Raph stepped in from the hallway, stretching his arms over his head and grinning like a lazy shark. He was still sleep-ruffled, though he was dressed already in jeans and a T-shirt, and Don came trailing in behind him, still in pajamas.

"Smells like magic in here," Raph said by way of good-morning, followed closely by, "Oh, jeez, Mikey- your face is _purple._"

When Raph cupped his chin for a better look at his face in the light, Mikey scrunched his nose at him and put a plate of French toast in his hands instead. Then he snuck a quick look past him at Don.

_Aw, man. _

Donnie didn't look any less worried than he did yesterday, and aside from a muttered greeting he barely said a word. But he glanced at Mikey when Raphael moved away to sit down- gaze dragging slowly over all the puffy, looks-worse-than-they-are bruises and scrapes- and his eyes got deeper and darker in a _second._

So Mikey spun around to face the stove, poking at the bread sizzling away to golden brown perfection, and said, "Take a seat, Don! In T-minus two minutes, you'll have a one-way ticket to Flavorville."

In the time it took to finish breakfast, clean up, mob Leo with the prophesied hug before he left, get dressed and get out the door, Don didn't crack a smile _once. _In the gated parking lot behind their building, he headed away towards the car without a word, and Mikey followed Raph to his bike. He pulled the proffered orange helmet on and situated his bookbag before climbing up; and if he burrowed against his brother's back and hid from the world for a minute or two, then it was just because it was a little cold out, that was all.

Mikey had been so worried about Leo and Raph being angry with him, he hadn't even _considered _Donatello might be angry, too.

* * *

"Oh, my _god, _Mikey!" was April's greeting-of-choice when she saw him in drama. He barely had time to look up from his improv prompt before she was sitting on his desk and leaning over to hold his face in her hands. "Donnie told me, but- oh, my _god."_

April was Donnie's best friend in the whole world, Casey's girlfriend since basically forever, and Mikey's big sister as far as anyone who mattered was concerned. She was also super smart, really pretty, and rocked a blue belt in karate- coolest girl ever? Mikey thought so.

"Ugh, this is all _Bradford's _fault. What a creep!"

"Easy, sis! He had nothing to do with the fight. But I have _no _idea what's up with that guy," he admitted. "I'm thinking about talking to him during free period today."

"I dunno, Mikey," April said, moving her hands away and sitting back to look at him worriedly. "That might not be the best idea. The boys are all pretty high-strung."

He propped his chin up in one hand, glum. "Don't I know it. Donnie's so mad he won't even look at me."

"Oh, sweetie, that's not it at _all."_

* * *

As usual, April turned out to be right.

"You did _what?" _Mikey all but shouted, and Donnie scowled at a spot on the floor.

"I couldn't help it! He just looked so _smug."_

"You should've seen it Mikey," Raph said brightly, actual real-life glee in his face. They were sitting in the_ office, _legitimately in trouble, and Raph was grinning so hard Mikey wanted to pinch him. "I have _never _seen someone go down so hard before in my life. Bradford hit the floor like a ton of bricks."

"Donnie, holy crap! You can't pull a Raph in the middle of the hallway, you're an _honor student!" _

Rolling his eyes in a really longsuffering way, Don said, "Mikey, I can get away with it _because _I'm an honor student. I'm ahead of the rest of the school by more than ten percent. _That_, and I also run tech support for most of the faculty," he added with a shrug. "Since it was an _"accident," _they aren't going to do more than slap my wrist."

"Then how come they called Leo?" Mikey said worriedly, eyeing the lady behind the desk. "He had to leave work, you guys, that's _so _not cool."

Donnie looked a little guilty at that, but Raph waved it off. "Leo's leaving that job at the end of the week anyway, it's not like they'll fire him. And the principal's just sending us home to prove a point, it's no big deal."

"Ughhh, it's like I woke up in Crazy Town." He slapped a hand over his face without thinking and yelped; Donnie's disgruntled frown was gone like lightning, and Raph actually stood up out of his chair, brow creased in concern. Don eased Mikey's cringing arms down to get a look at his face, and Mikey let him; saying _really _seriously through the painful sting, "I know you're angry, but can't you just wait and take it out on me at home? That way you won't get a checkmark on your perfect record, and Leo won't worry anymore?"

Donnie's hands fell to his shoulders and clenched there tightly, shaking once like a terrier with a bone. "I'm angry. I'm _furious. _But not at you. What you did was brave and amazing, and we- _all _of us- are _so _proud of you."

Mikey blinked at him. He couldn't _quite _make sense of that, not after last night and all the quiet upset in their apartment when he got home. His apparent confusion made Raph sink back into his chair and drop his face into his hands to stifle a sigh. Mikey drooped- _Messing up again- _and even though Don's eyes were almost black with something bigger than anger, the hand that tipped Mikey's chin back up was really gentle.

"I'm angry at Chris Bradford, who was going to lure you into a trap at the YMCA, with nice words and flowers from his mother's shop, just to get back at Raph. And I'm _furious _that he left you in that alley to face three thugs on your own, without so much as calling for help."

"But it's not his job to care about me, Donnie," Mikey replied softly, once he found the words. "He's not my family."

"Doesn't matter," Donatello said matter-of-factly, and let him go. "You're my baby brother, the only one I've got, and he let you get hurt. And I hate him for that."

Mikey's eyes darted to his hands, folded in his lap- _he _was the one who messed up and gave Bradford a shot, _he _was the one who went looking for trouble down that alley, but he wasn't the one _in_ trouble. His brothers were mad, but now they weren't- or they weren't, but they were at other people- and Mikey couldn't keep all those lines straight in his head.

He only looked up again when Don said, "And, by the way?"

"Yeah?"

Donnie opened his arms and smiled really kindly, the kind of smile that Mikey had to return automatically no matter what.

"This time, I really _do _want a hug."


End file.
